Monday, July 2, 2012

Passwords

Every since I was a wittle gurl, I liked security. In the form of my binkie, my mother's bedtime kiss, a sturdy deadbolt. And I thought passwords were the shit. They were currency into the cool kids' clubhouse, sometimes literally.

And then…the internet. In its infancy, I could use one password—a pet's name, some iteration of my birthdate, a word that always makes me giggle—for everything.

And then…now. With secure office servers, viruses, hackers, and just plain annoyingly efficient websites requiring frequent password resets, my mind and my secret codes are a jumble. Some are written down in various notebooks, some are trapped in my mind, hanging out on the trashheap of other lost memories like the last name of that nimrod boyfriend who always kept his gum tucked behind a molar when kissing me, and some are plopped God knows where on my laptop.

Technology is supposed to make life easier, not remind me at every turn of how old and infirm my mind is becoming.

macdaddy18

MacDaddy2000

TIWTPITF2012

TrueLove1

Haircut100

LakersRule86

IH8Scrabble

FUpassword

Butterfield8

maisoui123

No, they're not vanity plates. These are my desperate attempts to find the right combination to unlock my iTunes/Facebook/Twitter/Pinterest/LinkedIn/Microsoft/GoogleYouTubeFlickr/bank/investment/online retailer account. Maybe I should just reset everything right now to Amnesiac4ever.

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